


No Earthly Love

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ballad 39: Tam Lin, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mind Control, Shapeshifting, mentions of societal homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: At the joining of the two worlds, there is a wood through which two rivers run. They cross only once, and only on the shared banks of both waters can the leaves of lethe grow fertile.The plant itself is for forgetting, but the seeds hold the memory, affix it in the mind. They are sought after by the old and forgetful, those who have been injured, and those who fear for a time when all that they know will disappear.There, at the rivers' cross, a hero is at a very different crossing-- near the end of one quest, and the start of another.For he is of one world, and the seeds he is after are guarded by a creature of the other, and they, like the rivers, were destined one day to meet.
Relationships: Loki/Steve Rogers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90





	No Earthly Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lena7142](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena7142/gifts), [Lise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/gifts).



At the joining of the two worlds, there is a wood through which two rivers run. They cross only once, and only on the shared banks of both waters can the leaves of lethe grow fertile. 

The plant itself is for forgetting, but the seeds hold the memory, affix it in the mind. They are sought after by the old and forgetful, those who have been injured, and those who fear for a time when all that they know will disappear. 

There, at the rivers' cross, a hero is at a very different crossing-- near the end of one quest, and the start of another. 

For he is of one world, and the seeds he is after are guarded by a creature of the other, and they, like the rivers, were destined one day to meet. 

\--- 

“You don't belong here.” 

Steve straightened and stepped backwards, his heel splashing into the water he'd just crossed to get this far and his hand going to his sword at his side. 

Before him, his back to the trees that Steve didn't dare venture into, was a man. Or what looked like a man. He seemed to be close in age to Steve himself, but he knew that appearances could be deceiving, and here more than usual. 

“I don't, no.” Steve said firmly. He stepped back onto the shore, then made a show of looking around him. “But neither do you, exactly, do you? Out on the edge of Asgard like this.” And alone, though if he was what Steve thought, that wasn’t unusual. 

Powerful beings had no need to travel together for safety.

The man frowned. 

“The seeds you gather, they are not of your world. Whatever you intend, I would advise against it.” He spoke haughtily, mockingly, and Steve could feel his jaw clenching in response. 

“What would you know? I didn't make a three day ride to come back empty handed, or for some fool's errand.” Steve could feel the seven seeds he'd managed to find before he'd been challenged, clutched in his hand and growing damp with sweat. 

“And yet you seem to think you may just take the things of this forest without payment to those who rule here.” The man arched his brow, and Steve glowered, though inwardly he was quaking. He knew stories about people who had gained fortune on this bank… and those who had lost everything here.

“And I suppose you think yourself to be King of these woods?” He challenged. 

“Not King, no. Not yet. But Prince.” The man corrected. “My mother and father rule these lands, the trees and ground and sky and all that lays between. Those seeds belong to Asgard.” 

“You’re small and dark to be Thor.” Steve said, disbelief dripping from his words at his eyes traced upwards, to the man's hairline, where instead of the fabled locks like the trapped sun, his hair sprouted sleek and dark as midnight shadows. James had always told him stories of the Asgardians-- he was an avid collector of tales of the Aesir and their warriors, before he’d forgotten everything. And he had told Steve often of the Hero Prince of the Aesir, the golden and glorious God of Thunder. 

The man was not fast enough at hiding his emotions to mask the hurt that slid onto his face. 

Steve was surprised, and his impulse was to glance away, give this proud creature some privacy. But then it was gone, and his face was once more still and undisturbed. 

“I am not Thor.” He said simply, words more stilted for the insult he’d taken. “I am Loki, brother to Thor. And you must return those seeds to Asgard.” 

He held his hand out, imperious, obviously certain that he would not be denied. 

“No.” Steve said, pulling his hand to his chest defensively. “It took me weeks to even learn what it was I need to return my friend's memories. I won't leave this place without these seeds.” 

Loki tilted his head to one side, eyes going half lidded and lazy, so that he resembled nothing more than a snake, coiled and considering whether to strike. 

“And how will you use them to achieve the effect you are after?” He asked, and Steve could hear the challenge in his words. 

“I have to take them back to the cut wife at the edge of the bog. She promised to make me a potion--” 

Loki's laugh cut Steve's words short. 

“A potion!” He exclaimed. “First you would steal them, then you would squander their gifts.” 

Steve's eyes narrowed, unsure if he could trust him. 

“And what _should_ I do with them, if you know so much better?” 

“They ought to be made into a poultice, applied over the eyes.” Loki answered promptly. “It should be done under the watch of the full moon, but you would need to hurry. The next is two days hence.” 

Steve frowned. It would be a full day’s hard ride back home, and he needed to know, still, what went into the poultice. It made sense to him to trust one who grew up in this world, rather than the word of a woman who had found her own way into a semblance of magic-- but had no proof of her power. 

“What can I do to convince you to make me the poultice-- or tell me how, and let me leave with it? These... it is for my friend, my brother. Our enemies took him. They took his memories, in an attempt to make something mindless of him, and in escaping them, he lost one of his arms. He’s lost too much. And this will let me give him back at least his mind.” He did not expect his appeal to make much difference, not with as haughty as Loki looked, but he thought he ought to explain what he meant, why he meant it when he said, “I would do anything.” 

Loki appeared to be taken aback by his desperation and bluntness. 

“Your friend, your brother, he really means this much to you?” Loki's voice was oddly pinched, and Steve couldn't help but wonder about his relationship with his own brother. What did Loki think of Thor-- did he question whether Thor would do the same for him? 

But it was not Steve's place to comment on that, nor did it seem wise to. He needed Loki's help, so he needed not to offend him. 

“He does. He means the world to me.” 

“Then you would give me whatever I wished? Anything I ask?” He spoke slowly, as though an idea were only just forming in his head, and a small smile grew on his face.

Steve felt his eyes grow wide, and a small voice in his mind warned that he should be cautious, but his heart led the way. 

“Anything.” 

“Are you bonded?” Loki asked, and Steve quickly shook his head in the negative. Loki stalked forward, intrigued. “Then are you chaste?” 

“I-- um. I haven’t, uh, I’m not--”

“Then lay with me.” Loki interrupted. 

“But the moon--” Steve answered, thinking of the time constraint. Loki paused, seemingly only remembering, himself.

“Ah-- of course. The moon.” Loki sounded distant for a moment, and his gaze seemed far away, then his eyes refocused on Steve. “A kiss then, for now. To seal the promise for the future.” 

Steve blinked, taken aback. 

The Aesir were not known for their flexibility in such matters as deals and promises.

Loki frowned. “Surely I am not so hideous as all that,” He said it lightly, but it was clear that his words hid real hurt. 

“No, I-- it's just--” Steve groped for words. 

Loki's posture relaxed, from something stiff and braced for rejection, into something predatory. 

“You _have_ at least kissed before, haven’t you?” The sparkle in his eye implied he though he knew the answer.

“No, but-- it’s fine. It's just a kiss.” Steve returned, clinging to his courage.

“Just a kiss.” Loki echoed, then added with a smirk, “For now.” 

“And you'll tell me how to make the poultice? And let me go, with the seeds?” Steve demanded. 

Loki's lips curved upwards. “I will make it for you, and allow you to depart with it, yes.” 

It was a small price, and one that Steve could agree to-- he’d deal with the actual follow through later. As for sealing the promise-- he stepped forward. 

“Then take your kiss.” He said, and leaned towards Loki, but he was stopped short when Loki held up an imperious hand. 

“No.” 

“What trick is this?” Steve asked, straightening and feeling vaguely humiliated. 

“You must give the kiss-- it cannot be taken, willingly or otherwise.” 

Suddenly Steve remembered the stories of the Asgardians, of how no deal with them was as it seemed. And if Loki was bound by rules-- or maybe he was just being an ass. Who could say, really? But what difference did it make? He'd said he would do anything. And the kiss was meant to bind him to his word, so maybe it made sense that there was extra weight to it. 

Steve plucked up his courage before it could waver under the cautions of half-remembered Aes-tales and stepped forward again, until he could feel Loki's breath on his face. He did not hesitate, wise enough at least to tilt his head that their lips might meet and not their noses. 

Loki's mouth was soft, his lips oddly cool-- and his breath tasted faintly of wild berries. 

For the first time, Steve wondered what brought Loki here, what odd fate had deemed that their paths should cross. Wondered if somehow Loki had known that Steve would be there-- knew what he had not told even James, knew the secrets of what Steve’s heart desired.

But the worries fled as the kiss ended, and Steve felt a sense of loss that struck him almost physically. _Magic_ , he thought, but didn't say. 

Wordlessly, Loki held out his hand, and Steve hesitantly dropped the seeds into his cupped palm, not entirely certain he could trust that Loki wouldn't just take them from him, promise kiss or no. 

He bristled when Loki scooped the entire handful in his mouth, calming only a little when he summoned a bowl from _nowhere_ and spat the broken seeds into it. 

“They are useless whole; I will give you the mixture, but you must put it into a pot over a fire and bring it to a boil, then cool it and cut it with the juice from an apple, before applying it over your friend's eyes.” 

Loki pulled a small bag from nothing, next, leather and tied with a thin, braided thong. Inside was some kind of powder. 

“Kamphundr bone dust.” He explained, as though Steve ought to understand instantly. 

The word fell on Steve's ears like the gibberish that young children spoke, but he nodded solemnly anyway, as if it made perfect sense. 

“Scavengers-- carrion eaters.” Loki elaborated, clearly seeing through Steve's pretense, and Steve flushed under the amusement that was twisting Loki's lips upwards. 

“I will need leaves from a krækiber plant as well. Those I do not have-- but come this way, and we shall find it together. Quickly, though-- the further you go into Asgard, the longer you will spend there.” 

Steve appreciated that Loki wasn't asking him to leave to get them, or offering to do it himself-- he wasn't asking Steve for trust that he would be unwilling to give. But he wasn't waiting, either-- and he was headed directly into the woods that every human child knew better than to enter. 

Steve couldn’t lose track of him, though, and they’d already sealed their promise-- surely that meant he was under Loki’s protection? 

“What do Kraickber plants look like?” He asked instead, following after Loki, until he could fall in step with him, the path seeming to widen to accommodate them walking side by side.

“Their leaves are small and sharp and each sits on its own stem-- no bundled groupings. It grows berries-- the fruits are small and hive like, dark purple and made of many small globes of juice.” 

“Like blackberries?” Steve asked, surprised. 

Loki stopped, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. 

“Is that what you call them? It is descriptive, if somewhat simple. But then, what else would one expect? Mortals.” He scoffed lightly. 

Steve shrugged, trying not to take offense. 

“They're berries that are dark-- almost black. It makes sense. At least you know immediately what we're talking about. Not like Krackber plants-- no way of knowing what those are.” 

“Krækiber.” Loki corrected absently, gesturing. “And I believe we've found them.” 

It didn't take long to gather what he needed, even though Loki ate as many berries as he plucked leaves, it seemed like. But that may just have been Steve's impatience speaking. 

Soon enough, Loki was adding the leaves and crushing the entire mixture with a pestle that he most certainly summoned from the same nowhere as the bowl. 

Once he'd combined it to his satisfaction, he plucked a large, wide leaf from a tree nearby and lay it out, spreading the mixture over it with his fingers. The bowl and pestle disappeared with a faint green glow, and he rolled the leaf up, securing it with a string plucked from his own clothing. 

“For your friend.” Loki told Steve solemnly. “And… since you have ventured into the Asgardian woods now, you’ll need to leave a favor.” 

Steve blinked, then bristled. 

“You said you’d let me go with what I needed, after the kiss!” 

Loki raised his hands.

“This has nothing to do with our bargain; it is the rule of these woods. Mortals who venture here must leave a favor or owe one. And trust me-- you do not wish to be beholden to the Aesir.” 

Loki’s eyes and voice darkened, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder again at the pain in his face. 

Steve glanced down at his clothing and frowned. 

“What sort of favor?”

“Golden rings are customary, as are yew shields-- those allow you to hide from Heimdall’s eyes.”

“I uh, haven’t got either of those on me, at the moment.” Steve answered. Loki tilted his head. 

“Your sword, then?” He suggested. 

“I can’t-- it was my father’s.” 

“Hm.” Loki looked thoughtful. “Then I will trade you-- a ring of gold for another kiss from you.” 

Steve huffed, amused. 

“I had no idea my kisses were so valuable-- If the folks at home thought so, I’d be rich!” 

Still, he leaned in and put his free hand out, bracing himself on Loki’s chest for balance, and kissed him a second time. 

Loki smiled into the kiss and Steve felt a slight tug at the top of his head. 

When he pulled away, Loki had slid a golden ring off of his finger, and was holding some of Steve’s hair. He slid the ring onto the branch of a nearby bush, and in a quick motion, he twisted the lock of hair together into a loop, sealed it with a spark of green light, and placed it onto his own finger. 

“A ring of the finest gold I have ever seen.” Loki told him, eyes dancing, as . “You should go, though. The longer you tarry, the more time you lose for your journey.”

Steve didn’t know whether to blush or bristle, but anything he might have said was interrupted by the sound of his horse whinnying from across the river. 

He looked toward her, astounded that it was dark already on her side of the water, despite it being sunny here, and their only having been gone a few minutes. But when he turned back to ask Loki what it meant, the Asgardian had vanished. 

He shook his head, bemused, and called out, “I’ll be back. You have my word!” before returning the way he’d come. 

He passed the cut wife’s home and rode on through the night and the next day to reach his village, stopping only to harvest an apple. He tried not to think too hard or too much of the Aesir man he’d met, nor the promise he’d made or the taste of his lips, but the terrain was not difficult, and his mind had little else to cling to.

At least, until he got back and laid eyes on James-- and met his empty gaze. With a guilty lurch he was reminded what his thoughts should have been focused on. But fortunately Loki’s instructions had been clear, and he knew he’d be able to execute them.

He waited til nightfall then followed Loki’s directions perfectly, and under the light of the full moon, spread the poultice over James’s eyes. 

He watched, amazed and entranced, as the poultice began to glow, and, when James’s eyelids opened, there was recognition in his eyes… as well as something else. 

He formerly grey eyes shone green, with a fainter version of the glow that the Asgardian magic had. 

“Steve?” 

Steve reached out and took James’s hand in his own. 

“Hey Buck...I’m here. You’re safe-- you’re home.” He could not keep the relief from his voice, nor did he try. But Bucky-- no longer just ‘James’, but fully back to being himself, frowned and looked into the distance, through Steve, as if he wasn’t truly seeing him. 

“I can see-- I see the Aesir court!” He was delighted sounding, and Steve wasn’t sure whether to be happy for him or annoyed at Loki for not having mentioned this particular side effect. Speaking of…

“Do you see a black haired Aesir? Loki, is his name-- he’s the one who told me how to help you. He’s Thor’s brother. I’d never heard of him before.”

“Yeah, I see him. He’s there with Odin one eye and… that must be Heimdall-- but why’s he chained up?” James asked.

“What? That doesn’t-- he’s a prince!” Steve protested, unease swirling in his stomach. What could he have done in the time Steve was traveling to warrant being punished by his father’s court? Unless… unless it was something to do with Steve. 

“I have to go back.” Steve decided. “This probably has something to do with us-- I made a promise to him, and I have to set this right.”

James’s eyes slid back to Steve’s face, and Steve swallowed, embarrassed at the appraising look James was giving him, twice as effective with his haunting eyes.

“What did you trade with Loki to fix my mind?” Bucky asked, speaking slowly as if he thought Steve was an idiot. Which he had said he did, often, throughout their childhoods. Steve felt the usual flush of annoyance, alongside a fond warmth, but now was not the time for either.

“Nothing bad.” He promised. “It was only kisses and a lock of my hair and a promise to return.” He hoped his blush didn’t betray him.

“Steve, you _didn’t_.” Bucky sounded horrified.

“What? It’s just, you know, a night.” Steve said, even as he felt his heart rate spike and fear shoot through him. 

Deals with the Aesir were never what they seemed, and Bucky had told him as much over and over again. But more importantly, he was admitting to a shadow of being what he was-- his deepest, most preserved secret. He couldn’t let Bucky know that he wanted this… that this ws how he was.

“Did you kiss him thrice and exchange rings?” Bucky pressed, and Steve breathed easier, relieved at the line of questioning. Until Bucky spoke again. 

“It’s not funny, Steve-- that’s how the Aesir become betrothed.” Bucky spoke hotly, his eyes darting over Steve’s face and demanding an answer. 

“No! No-- we kissed twice, and he gave me no ring. Only the poultice.” 

Bucky sighed. 

“Just as well. But then you have no claim to him, and there’s no way for you to gain access to the court. Only mortals bound to Aesir can be pulled to it, and it’s impossible to get to otherwise.”

“Well, I made a promise, but if they won’t let me in to keep it… I can’t just leave him there! There has to be something...” Steve muttered, his heart sinking into his stomach. For all that he knew it wasn’t his concern, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Loki had helped him, for nearly nothing, and Steve wanted to help him now. 

“If you had done part of the betrothal, three kisses, an exchange of rings,, you could have gone back and laid claim to him. But since you didn’t…”

Steve looked down at the empty leaf and, with a sudden stroke of inspiration, dropped to his knees to fumble on the dark ground. 

“He did wear my hair like a ring. If I can just… Ha!” 

Triumphant, he held up a single string in between his two fingers and rolled it much as Loki had done, fashioning a loop and slipping it onto his finger. 

As soon as he had, as if from far away, he could swear he heard Loki laughing. 

“Oh, damn it all Steve, you’ve done it now--” Bucky began, and then Steve felt a pull and fell, with a lurch, on his knees before the King of the Aesir himself, Odin one eye, and his entire court-- including Loki and a man who held him, tethered like a dog on a lead. 

That man was pointing his sword-- a massive thing, larger than Steve himself was-- at where he knelt, and Loki was reaching one hand towards him, despite his wrists being bound together.

“Why have you brought this mortal hence, Loki?” Asked Odin One-Eye, and Loki laughed again. 

“This clever little mortal just betrothed himself to me with a string from my shirt.” Loki gestured to Steve’s hand, where the rough ring rested, using the hand that bore the ring of Steve’s hair.

“Buck--James said you were in trouble, and it was the only way I could think of to keep my promise.” Steve answered, quick to try and explain, since he didn’t want anyone to think they were actually getting married. He turned to address Odin, quaking in his boots and doing his best to hide it. 

“If Loki did wrong in helping James and I, whatever crime you charge him with, I would take that punishment in his stead.” 

He just hoped Bucky could only see them-- not hear them. Though he’d probably give Steve a good thump for this if he got back from it, either way. 

Odin, though, just laughed. 

“Mortals. Your short lives inflate your opinions of your importance. No, Loki did no wrong in his aid of you, so far as I know.” Odin glanced towards his son, and Steve followed the look, realizing for the first time how sad and scared Loki seemed. He’d seemed happy enough before, happy to see Steve he supposed, but… 

“As his betrothed, Steven has the right to know.” Heimdall pointed out, voice even and fair. 

Odin considered, then nodded.

“On the thirteenth full moon of each fourth year, the Goddess of the Dead demands tribute from the Aesir. In exchange for our long years, we must sacrifice to her one of our youth, on the brink of their majority. And Loki is the only Asgardian of the correct age, aside from the heir to the throne. His _crime_ was attempting to flee-- and condemning his brother to his fate. No doubt that was how you met him-- near the water’s edge, was it not?”

“It was, yes.” Steve answered, his heart sinking low. 

He was not Asgardian, and he couldn’t trade places with Loki for this. And it made sense, suddenly, Loki’s sadness about Steve’s near-kinship with James, and what he’d do for him, when Loki in turn was trying to abandon his brother to death. But Steve didn’t know that he could blame him-- faced with being a sacrifice, especially to the Goddess of Death, who wouldn’t be afraid?

“I… understand. But, I made Loki a promise-- and we are betrothed, I guess, so… may I beg you, Odin, One Eye, All Father, known for your fairness and mercy, for Loki’s final night? I have that much claim of him, do I not?” It made him flush to ask, and he knew he was red to his ear tips, but it was the right thing to do-- he had promised, after all. And if nothing else, maybe he could, however temporarily, get Loki out of those chains.

“I will not run again, father. You have my word.” Loki added. 

Odin hesitated, but a new voice spoke out, and a woman strode forth, resplendent and powerful looking. 

“You will give our son this boon before you send him to Hel.” Frigga all but commanded, and Odin winced, clearly loathe to disobey his Queen. 

“Very well. You have the night. Hela arrives shortly after dawn.”

Heimdall removed the chain, and Loki stood, stalking forward to take Seve’s hands in his and kiss him again-- the third kiss, to seal the betrothal, Steve realized, faintly embarrassed that this time it was in front of the court of the Aesir. 

“I will escort them to Loki’s rooms,” Frigga informed her husband, again allowing no room for argument. “And I will ward them against their leaving.” 

What half-thought out plans Steve had of slipping off in the night with Loki and bringing him back to their village dissipated, and a sense of futility and hopelessness began to settle around his heart. 

He’d come to try and help him; he was in more danger than Steve had thought, and now he could do nothing but try and comfort him. 

They moved through the halls, neither he nor Loki seeking to touch nor speak, and Frigga seemed content to follow a pace or so behind them.

“Here,” Loki said at last, stopping before one of hundreds of ornate doors in the hall. 

“Inside,” Frigga urged, voice low and conspiratorial, and Loki and Steve traded a surprised look, but went in, Loki closing the door behind the three of them and Frigga spreading her hands, and magic, over it.

“My brave boy,” Frigga said, her mask of regal coldness dropping as she strode forward to take Loki’s face in her hands. “Your father did not ask, but I could smell it on you the moment you stood. You did not go to the river in an attempt to flee, did you?” 

Loki’s eyes cut toward Steve, then he looked down. 

“No.” he admitted quietly. “I went to forget-- I hoped lethe would allow me to be as brave a son as you deserve, come first light.”

“Oh Loki.” Frigga whispered, and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You are every bit of the son I deserve, and then some. More than I ever could have wished for., more than I would have dreamed, when Odin brought you to me. I am so sorry that--” Her words choked off, and Loki reached up to take his mother’s hands, pulling them from his face to press kisses to the backs of her knuckles. 

“I know.” He assured her. 

Steve felt distinctly uncomfortable, as though he were intruding, or spying upon something he oughtn’t see. He tried to remain unobtrusive, but Frigga’s gaze turned on him all the same. 

“And you, Steven. You have given us a reason to hope.”

Her voice was warm with gratitude, and Steve licked his lips, suddenly nervous under the weight of both her and her son’s gaze. 

“Me?” He asked. 

“Did you know, when fae creatures are bonded, their spouses gain protection from their gifts?” Frigga asked, and Steve glanced to Loki for confirmation, but he was staring, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 

“Mother-- When _Aes_ are bonded, yes, but it is too much to ask. The promise he made-- I asked for it in jest, planning to forget and die. We cannot ask Steve to--”

“What is it?” Steve interrupted. “I want to help. Besides, we’re betrothed now; surely that means that you can ask anything of me.”

“There is a way of challenging Hela’s claim. You should not be in any danger, as Loki’s betrothed. But Hela will not like it.”

Steve looked between Loki and Frigga. 

“Tell me what I have to do.” 

Loki looked pained and Frigga smiled. 

“You must allow her to take him; this is imperative, or Asgard will owe a different Aes in turn. And I cannot lose both of my sons. But once she has him, Loki will become her creature. You must grab him, and pull him into the river. The waters will restore him to himself.” 

“I will fight you,” Loki said flatly, and Steve felt his heart sink at the expression he wore. “I will have no choice, no will of my own to do anything else. I will resist, and try to hurt you. I will speak vileness and untruths and lash out with claw and tooth and magic and any form I can change to.”

“No matter what happens, you cannot release him until he is fully himself again. Or we will lose you both.”

Steve nodded. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll hold on, and free you from Hela.”

“Then I will leave the two of you. Thank you Steve. And… my sons, good luck.” Frigga pulled each of them in for a kiss on the cheek, then took her leave with one last, lingering glance. 

Loki let out a shaky breath. 

“You should not have agreed. You are putting yourself in dreadful danger.” 

“Not if I don’t let go. And you can’t hurt me, right? We’re betrothed.” 

Loki laughed, but it was a short, bitter little noise. 

“Aesir cannot hurt their betrothed. We know not if that is true of the sort of creature I am.”

Steve frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Did you not hear her? Odin brought me to her when I was a babe. I am not hers-- I was a changeling child. Only… I was not mortal, before. I was Jotun. Though why the Allfather wanted an infant monster…” he trailed off. 

“But of course. I am nearly the same age as Thor, and so that would have been in preparation for this day. A sacrificial son, to preserve the heir.” Loki spoke slowly, softly, his lips twisting. 

“I may have been raised Aes, but my truth is something else. And how that will affect your safety… I cannot say.” 

“Well… try it, then.” Steve said simply, bracing himself for an attack. Loki stood still, just staring. 

“I don’t-- I _won’t_ hurt you. Not while my mind is my own. Please don’t ask me to make that my last action as a free man. I couldn’t stand the guilt of it.” Steve saw a moment before Loki’s composure broke, and he stepped towards him just as Loki reached out, meeting him halfway and folding him into his arms. 

“Alright.” He murmured soothingly. “It’s okay; I would try either way.” 

“You shouldn’t.” Loki answered, but he sounded so miserable. “You feel guilty, and as if you owe it to me. I can absolve you of that debt-- break the betrothal. More than that; I can make you forget you ever met me.” 

Loki stepped back, his face grimly determined as he drew forth the leaves he had plucked from the lethe branches at water’s edge. 

“ _No_.” The word came out sharper than Steve intended, but he meant it. “Look, you helped me help James, and I’m not going to just let you make me forget that. Not when there’s something I can do to help.”

Loki pursed his lips, but vanished the leaves away, for which Steve was grateful. 

“I hope you do not suffer for this gallantry.” Loki said shortly, and looked down. 

Steve frowned. 

“Come here, why don’t we-- uh, let’s sit down alright? Now, I told your mom that I was going to help you, and I mean to. But before that… I promised you something, in those woods.” He pinkened, and Loki raised a brow.

“I have just told you I come from a line of monsters without hearts, and that I will try to kill you, tomorrow. And you wish to bed me?”

Steve bit his lip, but leaned inwards. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” He said softly. “You have a heart. You intended to help me and James without ever planning to have a chance to take advantage of me, despite laying claim to uh…” 

He started strong, but trailed off, his cheeks staining pink. 

“Laying claim to your chastity.” Loki finished for him, eyes dancing across Steve’s face. 

“It is interesting that you see that as a kindness, and not me merely toying with you.”

Steve licked his lips. 

“Maybe it was you toying with me. But… there’s a chance one or both of us might die tomorrow. And there isn’t much I can think of to prepare for that. But… maybe I don’t want to risk going out not knowing what it’s like. And maybe… you know, it might help. To make the bond of a betrothal more… legitimate. Who knows, maybe under all Hela’s control magic, you’ll remember me, remember what we do tonight.”

Loki’s smile grew sad and he reached up to cup Steve’s cheek. 

“I won’t.” Loki said it with the gravity of an oath. “This happens every four years, and I have seen parents attempt to save their children, and I have seen those same children become vicious. Monsters, in their own right, even without the monstrosity of my birth people. It is horrible. Which is why I am telling you: while you still can, change your mind. Abandon this folly. Run. Go back to your James-- his mind is his own again, is it not? You ought to be celebrating with him, not… not spending the night preparing to die with me.”

“Maybe you oughtn’t think of it that way. Maybe, instead think that I’m spending the night preparing to _live_ with you.” 

Loki’s smile was tight.

“Oh, are you now? And after, supposing this goes according to the Aestale in your head-- then what? You save me, _my hero_. What next?”

Steve blinked, then smiled. 

“Then... anything we like! I’d like to get to know you better, and you can show me more of Asgard, or--” The smile slipped away. “Obviously we don’t have to... I know I couldn’t ask before betrothing us, and I didn’t have a chance to ask for your permission. I suppose I should ask now, ah-- is there someone else you’d rather be spending tonight with? Someone you’d rather be with, if-- when we survive? We can always break the betrothal, if...”

Steve trailed off, losing his confidence.

Loki waited a beat, and Steve could almost see him weighing out what to say. But he apparently decided against lying, because he sighed and shook his head.

“There isn’t anyone else.” He said quietly, and Steve felt the cool spot that had formed in his chest all but disappear. 

“Okay.” He said quietly. “I don’t have anyone else either-- but you knew that already. So.”

“So you still think it wise, you still want to sleep with me tonight? Knowing what tomorrow holds?”

“What have either of us got to lose?” Steve asked.

Loki arched his eyebrow.

“Well. Your virginity, if I do it right. Our lives, if it all goes wrong.” 

Steve sputtered for a moment, before the sounds turned into laughter. 

“Alright, but besides that-- nothing. So… then, how do we...start, I suppose?”

Loki tilted his head consideringly.

“I think I should like to start by taking a kiss, if that’s still alright with you.” 

Steve lifted his face, offering it to Loki as he’d done the first time, and smiled into it when their lips pressed together. 

But this wasn’t like their promissory kisses-- there was fire behind it, desperation and want and fear and-- to Steve’s surprise-- _tongue._

He didn’t hesitate, flinch, or pull away, nor did he question it. He trusted Loki not to lead him astray, not now that they were so thoroughly bound to one another, at least until tomorrow’s business was ended. Besides, Loki already knew him to be inexperienced. And why would he do anything he didn’t enjoy? 

And so Steve resolved to give back as good as he got. At least until Loki’s hands began to wander, from the front of his shoulders up and over, to splay across his back, and then those long, clever fingers were working to pull his shirt up and bunch it beneath Steve’s arms. 

Their kiss broke and their breaths were harsh. 

“Can I take this off of you now?” Loki murmured, quiet for being so close, even as he gave the fabric in his fists a tug. 

“Yeah.” Steve managed-- but only barely, his mind having a hard time connecting to his mouth. 

He raised his arms, and let Loki divest him of his shirt. 

Loki dropped it and sucked in an audible gasp as Steve was exposed to his eager eyes. Steve, for his part, couldn’t help but feel self conscious. He was well muscled, he knew, but it felt ill-earned. He had not had to work for it, the way one would if it were natural. 

“This is-- I didn’t used to be like this.” Steve admitted, words coming quick and quiet. “There was a wizard who helped me to change, to save our town when all the fit men had been called away by our King. He used to work for the people who’d taken James and…” Steve fell silent. 

“You needn’t explain or excuse yourself to me. You’re a warrior, you are strong, however you came to be, and I am glad of it-- perhaps it improves your chances. Besides that, though… you’re beautiful.”

Loki’s fingers came to rest under Steve’s chin, and he lifted his face until their eyes met before their lips came together again. 

“You too,” Steve said, when the kiss broke. “You’re so graceful and elegant and even scared, and sad, and resigned… you’re so lovely.” 

Loki’s lashes fluttered as he looked down, and Steve felt his heart leap into his throat, afraid he’d said the wrong thing. 

“But strong, too!” He hastened to add. “I don’t mean-- I don’t think you’re just…” He bit down on his tongue and felt a distinct heat as he flushed, annoyed at himself for putting his foot in his mouth _now_ of all times. 

But Loki’s lips were quirking upwards, and he was looking own at Steve’s chest. 

“I want to follow that blush, and see where it goes.”

If anything, that only made it worse. Steve wanted to protest-- or agree, perhaps, but he was saved the effort and potential for further embarrassment, when Loki looked up and met his eyes. 

“And thank you. I am not strong in the way Thor is, perhaps, but I am happy to be lovely for you, as long as you appreciate it. And I think you’ll be surprised how strong I am.”

Though, a moment after he said it, Loki’s face shuttered off a bit.

Steve unstuck his tongue and swallowed. 

“I do, really. And… I think it’s only fair if, that is… can I see more of you as well?” He raised his hands to the laces of Loki’s shirt, but waited for permission, just as Loki had. 

Loki reached for his own laces, though.

“I only wish I blushed the way you do-- such a charming addition.” 

It was smooth, Steve noticed, and his confidence seemed to be unwavering, although he did not seem… something seemed off.

“Wait.” 

Steve found himself saying, without having really thought about it. “I’m sorry. I said something wrong-- I ah. You don’t have to-- any of this, alright? If you don’t want… to, to take off your shirt, or if you don’t want me, or…” he was scrambling for words again, casting about for the _right_ thing to say. 

Loki’s fingers paused, tangled in his shirt ties.

“Are you changing your mind, or are you just saying this out of concern?” Loki sounded as if he, too, was choosing his words carefully. 

“I don’t.” Steve had to stop and clear his throat. “You don’t seem excited. Or… you seem like you’re hiding something. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this with me. Whatever you’re trying to keep secret… it’s alright. You can tell me. If it’s just… if you’re not in the mood, I understand, really. And we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

That seemed to startle Loki, and for a moment his masks slipped and he looked… incredibly young. Younger than he could possibly be, with the longevity of the folk of Asgard.

“Part of my thoughts go to not hurting you, but then are inexorably drawn to the thought that tomorrow, I won’t have a choice. I am interested, I could use the distraction, only… I’m trying to forget what tomorrow holds.” He snorted. “Just like I was when we met. That’s also why I propositioned you, then. It would have been… if we had lain together then, it would have been no more than an amusement to me. I would have taken your chastity, taken my own memories, and I would be on my way to…” He lost his words, and Steve shook his head. 

“You can’t change the past, and none of that actually happened. I know more now, and it can be different this way, right? And distraction or oath or no, no matter how tomorrow turns out… I’m happy to be here, with you, right now. Alright?”

Loki’s lips twisted. 

“I am not a good person, but you are. And you are attempting to sacrifice yourself to and for me. I wish I could do something for you, in return.” 

“You _have_ done something for me. You helped me give Bucky-- James-- you helped me give him his memories back. Give him himself back. That’s more than enough. If anything, this?” Steve gestured between them. “This would be as much for me as it is for you. It’s a distraction, yes, but I’ve never had this. Never experienced what it’s like to be in love. Or to be with… with another man. And if there’s a chance we might die… maybe I want to pretend. If that’s alright with you.” Steve knew he had to be blushing again. But Loki just looked at him for a moment, calm as could be.

“If you want, I would be happy to pretend at love with you. It is hardly much of a stretch, even. You are the sort of man that I imagine it would be easy to fall in love with. In fact I find myself wondering how it is you came to wait for me… not that I’m not grateful, of course! Only… you said there was no one else. I can’t imagine how that can be true.” 

Loki looked calmer now, but curious. 

Steve shook his head.

“I ah. This, my being… I don’t know, big and healthy and strong, attractive, it’s recent. Before that, no one would really look my way. There was one woman actually but… in the end, I had to choose between her and going after James, when he was lost. Not her fault but-- anyway, there was also. There’s this part of me that.” Steve bit his lip. “Aes tales talk about how your kind are-- I don’t mean to offend, but the word in the stories is _hedonistic_. I guess I’d say… accepting? Humans, at least the ones where I’m from, don’t look kindly on men who would ah, lay with other men.”

Loki hummed.

“Not to offend, but if humans would restrict your options to find love while teaching you that you are undesirable, then they are even more barbaric than the Aes already believe them to be.” 

Steve sputtered.

“It’s not-- that isn’t--”

Loki held his hand up.

“You needn’t defend your people, Steve. I have to be somewhat grateful to them, after all. They brought me you. But enough of delving into your hurts. Let me show you the opposite. I’ll teach you pleasure, and we can play at love, and maybe tomorrow, that will be enough.” 

Loki’s eyes flashed sad again for a moment, but before Steve could say anything about it, Loki had leaned in for another kiss. 

He held Steve’s face in his hands, this time, simultaneously stroking at his jaw and directing him, gently turning his head to move with him, until their kiss felt almost more like a dance, and Steve felt himself relaxing into it, letting Loki lead him. 

When Loki finally pulled his lips away, his fingertips chased the broken contact, tracing over Steve’s kiss swollen lips. 

“Your mouth turns so pink after we kiss.” Loki told him. “It almost matches your blush when I start to tell you how beautiful you are.” 

Steve huffed out a little laugh. 

“I like the way you talk to me.” He offered, wincing as he realized how stupid it sounded in comparison to Loki’s purred compliments. 

“Your voice is--” He wasn’t sure he could describe it. “You talk and it’s like this warm pool is growing in my stomach.” 

“Oh? What else do you like?” Loki asked, his fingers drifting down to Steve’s chest. 

“I’m not sure.” Steve answered, honestly, “But I’d like to take your shirt off, if that’s alright. And then… then your pants. And I think I’d like to try tasting you. If that’s something _you_ like.” 

Loki blinked, then laughed, and the sound seemed to have been startled out of him more than anything. 

“Oh, I think I’d like that very much. All of that.”

His fingers went to the laces at his sleeves, then at his neck, and Steve sat back, watching, letting him take it at his own pace and just enjoying the show. 

“I suppose you’ve...thought about this?” Loki asked, not stopping in his movements nor meeting Steve’s eye. 

“Well.” Steve said, flushing more, if possible. “In a sort of general way, yes. Never about-- I’m afraid I didn’t have much time to imagine it with _you_ , but…”

“But you know that you want to take me into your mouth. You have been curious for some time, haven’t you?” Loki pulled his shirt off completely at this, and as his head was freed of the fabric, his green eyes met Steve’s again, long black hair settling around his face and gentling his sharp features. 

Steve couldn’t help but look away, his gaze trailing downward in much the same way he wanted his fingers to, soon. 

“As I said-- my people are less understanding of such desires. I’ve been… I’ve known I had them since I was a child, but... But I’ve never been able to do more than imagine.” 

Loki hummed and stripped away his pants, nude and seemingly certain of himself in spite of it.

“And what,” He asked, putting his hands on his hips so that all of him was on display, “did you imagine?” 

Steve’s mouth felt like it had gone wholly dry, his tongue heavy where it sat. 

“The body of a man, it’s unexplored territory for me. I would map you, measure you in fingertips and the length of my kisses. You’re so very beautiful.” 

He found his eyes tracking down Loki’s torso, and then snapped them back up to his face, afraid that he had said too much; seemed too desperate. 

But Loki looked… pleased? 

“What you speak of-- it sounds little different than worship.” He murmured. 

“Would my worship give you strength for tomorrow?” Steve asked, well aware of how the Aesir had once been seen as Gods. Did they draw power from such worship? He was genuinely hopeful that there was something he could do, but he saw the way Loki’s face shuttered again. 

“It would give _me_ strength.” He hurried to add, mentally grasping at how to save this. “Or perhaps you should deny me-- that I may only have such knowledge of you if we survive.” 

This, it seemed, was a perfect distraction. It turned it into a game, and Loki seemed quick to latch onto it.

“Are you suggesting that I give you the taste you asked for, and nothing more?” Loki’s face was alight with mischief, and the glow of it made him somehow more lovely. 

“Give me whatever you feel I deserve.” Steve offered, thinking quickly. “Or take what you’d have of me tonight. And then, tomorrow, once we have earned our peace again, I might beg you to consider what I deserve as an award.” He said it with a smile, turning it as much as he could into an invitation.

“So confident.” Loki said, and reached out to capture Steve’s face and pull him in for a kiss. 

“You may have me tonight, and if we survive to see tomorrow night, I will teach you what it is to be taken, in return.”

Steve was quick to agree. 

Loki pressed him down by his shoulders, and Steve knelt, looking upwards towards Loki’s face for guidance, even as he took Loki’s member in hand. 

“I’m sure you know from your own, but it’s much easier if it’s wet.” Loki caught Steve’s hand, bent down, and licked a stripe up it that sent a tingle shooting to Steve’s groin. 

Steve reclaimed Loki’s cock and began to stroke, watching the expressions that flitted across Loki’s face and basking in the sounds he made. 

“You’re very good, a fast learner.” Loki told him, voice husky from his arousal. 

“I expect you’re going to be a very good teacher.” Steve responded, and then, steeling himself, leaned in and took the head of Loki’s prick in his mouth. 

It tasted tangy, musky and salty but hardly unpleasant, and the knowledge of just what it was made Steve moan. 

Loki _liked_ that-- he could tell from the way his legs shook, muscles tensing and jumping as Steve moved his hands to Loki’s thighs for balance.

“Slowly now,” Loki cautioned, hand coming to settle on the back of Steve’s head to help guide his motions and support his efforts. 

“Take-- take more of me if you like, but don’t gag yourself.” 

Steve began to slide, careful to keep his teeth from scraping along Loki’s length in the process. He felt what Loki had warned against, the tightening of his throat as he ventured too far, and he pulled back quickly to avoid making a fool of himself. But that, too, seemed to be something Loki liked-- the speed of it, Steve reasoned, and so he began a rhythm, bobbing forward and backwards and moaning around his mouthful while Loki’s fingers clenched in his hair and his hips shifted. 

He didn’t thrust forward though, which Steve knew must require incredible will to avoid; he couldn’t even take himself in hand without arching up into it. 

Still, Loki let him go like this for a short time, and then his hand slid out of Steve’s hair to tap him nearly frantically on the shoulder. 

Steve pulled off, cleared his throat, and hastily checked in.

“I’m sorry, did I-- was something wrong?”

Loki shut his eyes tightly and panted for a moment before shaking his head. 

“No, you-- you did very well. I very nearly finished in your mouth.” 

Steve frowned.

“Why didn’t you, then?”

Loki laughed, the sound surprised out of him.

“I didn’t want to be rude. Besides--” his voice dropped, deepening to a velvet rumble that made Steve ache. “I’d so much rather come with you inside of me.” 

Steve got to his feet and Loki pulled him into a kiss, licking his own taste from Steve’s mouth even as he moved to the fastenings of Steve’s pants. 

Steve kicked first his boots, then his pants off, with none of the elegance with which Loki had removed his, but it didn’t seem to matter. Loki watched him hungrily just the same, hand at work behind himself, and once Steve was naked he moved back in close. 

“Teach me how to do that for you.” It was a request, but not a question, and Loki’s hand stilled, surprised. 

He grabbed Steve’s wrist, fingers leaving an oily sheen where they touched, and pulled him towards his bed. 

“Here,” Loki said, passing Steve a bowl of oil and settling himself, stretched out with his ass in the air. 

“It is a strong muscle that needs to be relaxed before it will let you in. yYou can use a finger, I’ve done that much-- I ah, it’s been some time…” Loki trailed off, looking, for the first time, somewhat embarrassed by this.

Steve felt his heart swell with affection for this ridiculous man, and crouched by the bedside to kiss him.

“You’ll have my entire life to fight against when you help me with this tomorrow,” he reminded him. 

Still, he coated a few fingers in oil and sat the bowl down before moving to crouch behind Loki. 

It was hard not to just rub his hands over his cheeks, perfect and smooth and soft as they looked. But he had oil on his fingers for a reason, and he pressed the first to his hole, already somewhat shiny from the slick he’d been using. 

Steve’s fingertip caught on the rim and Loki inhaled shakily as he sank it slowly inside. 

Steve gulped as Loki took him as far as his hand would allow. 

“You’re so warm inside,” he murmured. 

“Imagine what that’s going to feel like, wapped around that gorgeous prick of yours,” Loki urged, again using that darkened voice on him. 

It seemed so nearly unfair. 

Steve slid his finger in and out, almost in a sawing motion, though he twisted his wrist as he went, changing the angle at which he sank in. 

He saw the way Loki dropped his head, his elbows propping him up off the bed and his hair brushing the blankets below him. 

“You can add another.” He said, and his words came out soft, almost a whisper. It was such a stark contrast to the deep sex voice that he hid behind that Steve wanted to hug him, even as he wanted immediately to obey. 

So he ducked his head and lay a kiss at the base of Loki’s spine. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten my wish to worship you.” He told him, inserting the second finger and employing his own deepened voice for effect. 

He didn’t know whether that was the cause of Loki’s shudder, or if it came from the added stretch, or perhaps some combination of the two, but he felt his lips being tugged up into a grin. Loki was rocking back and forth now, ever so gently, sliding back against Steve’s hand, and Steve could see his cock where it swung, flushed and heavy between his legs. 

“That’s it,” Steve said, laying his hand low on Loki’s back to help steady him. “You’re so lovely, Loki.” 

“I want you.” Loki sounded plaintive, and Steve felt his heart flip, shuddering with a want of his own and more affection than he knew what to do with. 

“Have me,” he answered, carefully withdrawing his fingers despite the way Loki keened at their loss. 

Loki turned to face him, and grinned at the sight of Steve taking himself in hand. 

“So perfect for me, Steve.” 

He pulled Steve into a kiss and pressed him down onto the bed, off his knees and into a seated position, so that Loki could crawl into his lap. 

He reached behind himself and touched Steve’s cock for the first time, then, a moment later, was guiding Steve into him. 

They both sighed when he lowered himself until Steve was fully buried inside of him, and Steve wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him still for a moment. He let his forehead drop onto Loki’s shoulder and breathed in the smell of them while he fought to catch his breath. 

It was a lot. So much, bordering on too much, while simultaneously being not enough. 

Steve wanted to never leave. He wanted to move, now, and to hold still like this forever. 

He felt as if he couldn’t so much as string two words together, and so was grateful when Loki took his face in his hands and pressed his hair back from his sweaty brow. 

“Steve? Are you alright?” 

Steve nodded, a wide grin stretching its way across his face. 

“Hmm, it’s good.” He managed, and Loki laughed, though there was nothing mean about it-- just delighted. 

“Good.” He answered. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I will make it _even better_.” 

Steve inhaled, but nodded again.

“I’m ready.” 

Loki locked their lips together and began a sort of swaying dance with his hips, shifting to and fro, lifting and dropping, until Steve could barely keep sense of which way was up. He had no idea how long it took for the building pool of pleasure low in his stomach to feel tight and like he would shatter apart, but he was afraid it wasn’t long at all. 

“Oh Loki, I’m close,” he warned, words coming out on a moan. “What can I do to bring you with me?” 

Loki shifted, sliding his legs behind Steve and crossing them around his back. 

“Take me.” He whispered, directly into Steve’s ear, and before Steve had even had time to make sense of it, his body was moving, shifting to lay Loki’s back against the bed and driving down and into him. 

Loki keened again, though this time he could tell it was in approval, and Steve withdrew only slightly before Loki’s legs pulled him back down and into him. 

This new pace was fast and would have been easy to mistake for violence, if not for the sounds of pleasure being pulled from them both. 

“Close,” Loki panted out, and Steve could have cried his thanks to whatever gods may have been listening. 

“Should I--” He began, but Loki’s legs locked tighter around him. 

“In me. I want to carry you with me to Hel.” 

The words were such a shock that Steve began to come without having quite realized it was happening. 

He slid a hand between them to wrap around Loki’s shaft, and gave him a few quick tugs before he followed suit, cum streaking over Steve’s hand and both of their chests.

And when they had finished, and lay tangled together, both basking in the warmth of their shared bed and watching the cold sun as it brushed the treetops, Steve couldn’t help but feel that this was not something he ever could live without again. 

\---

Hela arrived like a great fog, her darkness reversing the sun’s rise and spreading a chill over Asgard. 

They were gathered in the throne room again, and while once Steve’s attentions would have been divided between cataloguing the grandeur and trying to determine who each of the Aesir present were, now he held Loki’s hand tightly and kept his eyes trained on the Goddess of Death, who threatened to take him from him. 

He paid no mind to the hoard of dead who followed her-- even willfully ignored them, afraid he might recognize friends among them-- and he refused to be awed by the way the fires in the hall had all turned a sickly green as soon as she’d appeared. 

“Your offering is due.” Hela announced by way of greeting, foregoing any signs of respect towards Odin, who sat upon Hlidskjalf to meet her.

Odin stood from his throne but did not descend-- clinging to any advantage he could, Steve thought, while his kingdom was at the mercy of this woman. His queen and heir stood at either side of him, and Steve did not miss that of their family, only Loki was on a level with Hela herself. He did not think that it was intended as an honor.

“Only my sons are of age for this year’s sacrifice.”Odine began, voice booming and speaking with a heaviness that he had not shown the night prior, when he spoke of Loki’s crimes, and the fate he had chosen for him. Steve bristled at this obvious act, and wished he could turn to see Frigga’s face, furious as she must be. Loki’s hand tightened around Steve’s own, but he held his tongue.

Still, Hela hissed. 

“You hope to evade my payment, because your brats are somehow special?”

“No!” Odin objected, single eye going wide and his demeanor suddenly more of an attempt to pacify. “I tell you this only so that you may know the weight of the life you take with you. My son-- Loki.”

Loki stepped forward, pulling free of Steve’s grasp, and Steve let him go, promising himself that was the last time he should do so until Loki was free. 

“I accept my King’s decision. I will go.” He said, speaking clearly and loudly, his voice echoing through the hall, but it was dull-- nearly devoid of emotion. Which, Steve realized, was likely the only way he could hide his fear. 

“Loki Odinson.” Hela spoke his name as if it were a delicious treat, and she looked up, not at Odin, and the relief on his face, but at Frigga, and the torment on hers. A slow, malicious grin made her fearful countenance all the more wicked to behold, and Steve felt, with cold certainty, that Hela had known this day was coming, and had looked forward to it with relish.

“I accept your sacrifice. I hope you have said your goodbyes; the hour grows late, and we must away.” 

She laid her hand on Loki’s head, a perfunctory tap that nonetheless sent him reeling, and then he snapped to attention and she spun and glided out the way she’d come, Loki following her without so much as a backward glance, already in her thrall. 

The second they were out the doors, Frigga was down the steps. 

“To the courtyard-- I’ve had Fandral prepare Sleipnir for you. Our fastest mount. Tell him to follow the footpaths. Loki will be on the white stallion. Good luck, Steve. Bring him home..” 

She pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, and Steve was off like an arrow, out the doors, onto the horse, through the woods. 

His heart pounded and he thought of nothing but Loki-- kind and gentle Loki, warm and soft and beautiful beneath him, eyes alight with mischief and a fire that had been banked this morning, and that Steve could not allow to fully go out. The man who had saved Bucky’s mind and shown Steve the ways of his body-- his betrothed, whom he would not lose.

The footpath was narrow, no doubt a former game trail made now so that those who walked would not be trampled by the Aesir on horseback. It led him up and over the road, along the side of the gentle hills and looking down at the road in the valley below. Which placed him perfectly above the caravan from Hel. 

He dismounted and hushed Sleipnir with a gentle touch, then, not giving himself any time to grow afraid or overthink, he launched himself downwards onto the white horse that followed Hela’s own fearsome steed. 

He managed to pull Loki from his seat and tumbled with him to the ground below, able to be grateful, for one spare moment, that neither of them were so easy to hurt as normal men were. 

The relief was short-lived, however. Loki squirmed in his grip and Steve was all too aware of the dead advancing on them. And so he wrapped his arms tighter over Loki’s and rolled them past the side of the road and down the hill, still refusing to let go. 

He heard shouts above and behind them, and Knew Hela must be watching and barking orders for Loki to obey. He knew, because his eyes glowed green, as had the flames of Asgard’s halls, and then he was a serpent, sliding through Steve’s arms. 

He couldn’t let that make a difference, though, and so, thinking fast, he wrapped his cloak around the snake and used it to stop him from slithering away. 

“Attack! Strike him!” Hela yelled from her high ground, and Loki hissed, his fearsome fangs merely a hand’s width from Steve’s face-- and then he reared back and transformed again. 

This time he became a huge wolf, great and terrible, larger than any Steve had ever known. The horses above them whinnied and screeched in terror, and Steve could feel his own heart pounding with fear. But he held tight to the collar formed of his cloak and sank his other hand into the dense fur on the back of Loki’s neck. 

“To the river.” He huffed, hoping that Loki might obey him instead of Hela. 

Instead, Loki bucked, clearly hoping to throw him off. Steve shifted his weight violently to the the side, pulling Loki down until he could gain his feet and drag him further into the woods-- away from his mistress, and closer to his freedom. 

Loki the wolf cried out in distress and flailed, trying to go back to Hela’s side, and turned newt into a great hawk, his talons long and horrible and beak sharp enough to rend flesh from bone. He gave a shrill cry and spread his wings, knocking Steve off balance, but still he held on, and when Loki launched himself skyward, he could not achieve flight with Steve’s weight holding him back. 

That failed, he was easy to pull until he was on his back, and Steve took hold of where his wings joined his chest and pulled him bodily to another hillside drop. 

There was a twenty foot slope of rough terrain-- small boulders and outcroppings of trees would not make this easy, but he had no other choice. 

Loki turned into a bear and spun in Steve’s grip to clamp his muscular arms around him in turn. He was obviously expecting resistance, expecting Steve to throw them away from the cliff. Instead, Steve simply clung to Loki’s fur and let himself go as limp as he could otherwise, bracing for impact. 

They rolled, and though Loki held him tightly, his spine did not break nor his flesh tear from the claws of the bear that was his betrothed. 

In fact, Loki managed to maneuver so that he landed on the bottom, and bore the brunt of their downward journey, his body bouncing off of rocks as he grunted in pain. 

When they stopped, finally, Loki lay, huffing, and Steve looked up to see that the river was only perhaps a dozen strides away. They were so close now. 

“Loki Odinson!” 

Hela had somehow made her way onto the beach, and Steve tightened his grip on Loki, refusing to let her have him. Not now, not after all of this. 

Loki shook his head and lumbered up, directing his watery eyes toward his Mistress. He seemed slow, no doubt exhausted, and Steve felt his heart lurch with guilt. 

“You know what you are. Take your true form and end this, once and for all.” 

Her words were icy, but that was nothing compared to the temperature Loki’s skin took, as he shifted once again, this time turning almost back into the man that Steve had come to love-- and he realized, with a jolt, that it was true. He hadn’t known him long, or loved him long, but he did love him-- the powerful, hopeful new sort of love that only came this close to the start of things. 

And Loki… Loki seemed not to recognize him, his eyes going hazy-- only, Steve realized, it was not haze, but ice, and beneath that protective layer, his whole eye, pupils and whites and all, were turning shades of deepest red. 

To compliment the stark blue of his skin. 

“Give up, you wretched mortal.” Loki hissed, and his voice was like boulders groaning against one another. “Do you suppose any so long-lived as I would ever truly love one so brief and plain as you?” 

Steve didn’t answer, instead focusing on the memory of Loki calling him beautiful and perfect and good the night before.

There was no fur to hold onto now, and Loki’s clothing was shredded from their battle, so Steve wrapped his arms around him and dragged, even as Loki began to struggle. He put his hands on Steve’s arms, and the cold there was sharp, ice crystals spreading over their skin. Steve shook his head though, refusing to stop, unable to feel the pain that he should be in. 

He kicked at the backs of Loki’s knees, forcing his legs out from under him and carrying him backwards. So close now, he could hear the water rushing and feel the ground going softer under their feet. 

“Damn you, _kill him!_ ” Hela shrieked. 

In his arms, Steve could feel Loki shudder and go stiff, locking up under the orders. 

Steve gave him no time to sort through it and spun around him, turning his back to Hela so that he was pushing Loki instead of pulling him, and thus it was that he tackled him into the cold water of the river. 

And still he clung, fighting to push Loki entirely under, to clear his mind of Hela’s influence. 

Loki went down, thrashing, and bobbed back to the surface as Hela roared her anger, and ice formed where the water tried and failed to drip down his blue face. 

“Steve?” Loki asked, eyes focusing on him and slowly going from red back to green-- but his own green, soft and clean like new leaves, not the vile green of Hela’s magic. 

At long last, Steve loosened his clenched fists and pulled Loki into a proper embrace, while Hela paced at the edge of the river, fuming. 

“Had I known you would be so useless, I would have demanded your brother in your stead!” She spat, and Loki tossed his hair and laughed. 

“By the laws of our agreement, you have lost the chance at either of us, now.” He taunted in return. “Better luck with your next victim.” 

Steve glowered, and placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder. 

Relieved as he was to have survived, he was none too eager to anger the Goddess of Death further than they already had. 

“Don’t worry.” Loki reassured him. “She cannot touch us now. But come, let us get out of this water-- I could use some warmth in me again.” 

He winked, ignoring as Hela spun away in a cloud of darkness and disappeared. 

“Besides, I believe we had an agreement of our own, about your reward for your services this morning.” 

Steve laughed through his flush. 

“I hope you won’t think less of me, Loki, but after all that… I might need to start with a nap.” 

Loki chuckled a little, shaking his head, and slung his arm across Steve’s shoulder. 

Together, they made their way back to Asgard’s hall. Frigga was glad to see them return, and Odin ordered a feast in their honor. 

Thor lifted them both in a hug somehow more bonecrushing than even what Loki as a bear had been capable of, and, finally, they were able to slink off back to Loki’s rooms to shower, and rest, and plan what came next. 

He would take Loki back to his home, Steve knew. If only to check in on Bucky and make arrangements to bring him back with them. They would have to decide when to marry, and where they would live, and every other concern that would, soon, make itself heard. 

But for now they were safe, and death was no longer hovering over them. He curled into the arms of a man who could love him, in a land he had only dreamed of, warm and at peace for perhaps the first time in his life. 

He closed his eyes and let sleep come, knowing that he would need his energy for whatever reward Loki saw fit to give him, when they both were up to it. 

Steve smiled in his sleep, and dreamed of his husband and their future.


End file.
